


On the Ropes

by Jester85



Series: The Ghost of You [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6905791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester85/pseuds/Jester85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing our journey through Civil War, this time landing at the base in Siberia, which reminds Steve of another mission with Bucky..</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Ropes

His first few hours stretching into days on the run with the ghost wearing James Buchanan Barnes' face had left Steve feel like he was in the company of a stranger, unknown to him. Tentatively asking "do you know me?", trying to mask the disappointment when this sad, withdrawn man ground out " _I read about you in a museum_ ".

Then catching the proud curve of Bucky's lips when he turned back to the car after kissing Sharon--and hadn't that been an impulsive and confusing jumble, almost like throwing himself into battle--the sad, sweet smile carrying an echo of failed double dates seventy years ago--" _What'd ya tell her about me?"  "Only the good stuff"--_ and it hadn't helped the confusing flutter in Steve's stomach that that fleeting glimpse of a smile on Buck's face had sent more warmth pooling in his chest than his first real kiss with a woman since WWII (that terrifying moment on an escalator when Natasha had practically forced him into the most painfully awkward kiss of his life, not that there was much competition for that title, wasn't something he thought about more than he could help it).

Sharon had risked everything, a career she'd worked hard for, a legacy she was trying to live up to, maybe even her freedom, to bring them their gear, get Sam his wings and reunite Steve with the shield that felt like an extension of himself, and she'd stared at him with such wide-eyed longing, so obviously wanting it, that he'd felt it would have been wrong, somehow, to not give her what she wanted.

And...it was nice.  Nice to feel close to someone again.  A blissful moment in all the chaos stretching out behind and in front of him.

But, seriously, in two years he hadn't even felt the motivation to look up her last name.  And where he was going, his love life was just going to have to wait.

It had relieved him beyond words when his breakdown in Bucky's arms had seemingly finally thawed the ice between him and someone who'd always felt like his better half, like another part of himself.  Who'd ripped out a piece of his heart with him and sent it plunging into an icy ravine.

As the Quinjet touched down in a flurry of snow and ice outside the abandoned Soviet/HYDRA base in Siberia, even though he knew they might well be walking straight into a fight with five other Winter Soldiers even more powerful than Bucky, Steve felt downright irrationally giddy.

And apparently Bucky felt the same, which filled Steve's chest near full to bursting.

"You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" he asked as the ramp came down, his words light, teasing.  Testing the waters.  Eyes sparkling when a smile--a warm, genuine smile, not the painful facsimile--lightened Bucky's face.

"Was that the time we used our train money...to buy hot dogs?" Bucky asked, turned to face him, the smile hesitant, almost shy, real.

"You spent three bucks trying to win a stuffed bear for a redhead," Steve shot back, not wanting to lose this precious moment, to keep that smile going, and he felt his own smile stretch his face when Bucky actually honest to God  _grinned,_ ducking his head with a chuckle.

"What was her name again?"

"Dolores.  You called her 'Dot'".

Bucky shook his head wistfully, growing more serious again, but wistful, reminiscing.  "She must be 100 years old by now."

"So are we, pal," Steve joked with more mirth than he felt, the boarding ramp coming down and icy wind whipping around them.  His hand was on Bucky's shoulder before he knew where it was going, and when his eyes flicked up, he found Bucky's gray gaze staring directly into his own with unblinking intensity.

The beginning of an awkward pause pregnant with too much meaning to confront right now started to tickle at Steve's brain, and he clapped Buck's shoulder again--a light, brotherly, manful back-slap--before they turned to face the unknown.

*** * ***

The elevator ride down crawled by in silence that felt loaded with unspoken meaning.  The dim lighting and cramped space, Bucky's face a hand's breath in front of his own, felt oddly intimate.

Bucky's face was serious again, masked, giving nothing away, eyes hooded, but his mouth was pensive somehow, thoughtful, and in the darkness, Steve swore he saw Buck look at his mouth.  Steve felt a little curl of excitement in his guts that he ruthlessly stamped back down.  Bucky's eyes lifted back to his and just held them, unbroken and unblinking.  Steve felt transfixed in that intent gray gaze, unable to look away.  The air thrummed with possibilities.  And then, abruptly, Bucky glanced up, at nothing at all, and the spell was broken.

They crept down the corridor in tandem, Buck leading the way and Steve at his back.  

The narrow corridor was like the train car, and Steve clenched his fist against the sudden tremble in his fingers because those were thoughts he really,  _really_ did not need to be having right now.

 _I'm not losing him again, damn it,_ he snarled to no one in particular.  

Seventy years later, and they still moved like a team, just as much as they had on the train.  Like a matching set.  Two halves of one person.  And Steve was forced to admit what he'd really known all along, that as much as he might call Bucky Barnes his "friend", "best friend", "brother", etc., Bucky Barnes had always been more to him than that.  That "something" wasn't exactly anything he was prepared to even try to put a name to, didn't know if he could even put into words.  It was like Bucky was his anchor, his other arm that balanced his weight so he could walk straight, the center of gravity that held him in its orbit instead of spinning off into empty space like he realized he'd been doing far too much of ever since he came out of the ice.  Before then, even.

They were together again.  They were SteveandBucky.  And this time, he wasn't letting the big jerk out of his sight.

\----" _You're a punk."  "Jerk."----_

The clang of metal spun them around at the bottom of the stairs, shield at the ready, Bucky's gun over his head, and Steve only realized later that, even after this man had nearly killed him several times just days ago, he turned his back on Bucky Barnes without a second thought.

Because he did trust Bucky.  And if he couldn't...then what else was there, anyway?

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yea," Bucky answered above and behind him.

Whatever came through that door, they'd face it.  Together.  And they would win.  Because Steve was not letting anything else happen this time.

\---" _I had him on the ropes."  "I know you did."----_

The memory made him smile in spite of himself, and it was only as the door was finally shoved open by a strength no normal human possessed, that he remembered that last lighthearted moment had come right before The Fall.

 

 

 

 


End file.
